The Space Between
by ephemereal
Summary: They know you know," he whispers into the phone. "They're coming for you. Get out. Get out now." Updated: 4-2-05
1. The Night

Author's Note: This is a strange little piece that just sort of wouldn't leave me alone. I wasn't planning on writing it, but it just begged to be put on paper. I've never written in this style, but somehow this was the only way it felt right. This piece came partially out of reading other fill-in fics for the gap between the first movie and Reloaded, and feeling that none of them were quite right, and partially from reading Neuromancer, and wondering just how much like Molly the Wachowski Brothers intended Trinity to be. And this is what happened. I don't know if it'll be continued, seeing as how I didn't intend to write it in the first place. Let me know if you want more, since I know this is a highly overdone type of fic.

I suppose this could be considered to have spoilers for the first movie...but then, if you haven't seen it, I really have no idea why you'd read this...

Obviously, I don't own these characters. They just invade my brain at extremely inopportune moments.

* * *

The Space Between 

The ceremony is short and emotionless. The bodies of the fallen are wrapped in linen—the rags of old and not so old uniforms donated by the living, though there are never any to spare—and jettisoned into the service tunnels that lead to the surface. It seems crude and dated to all, but there is no choice, and it has become custom among the Resistance. They are soldiers. A proper funeral is one of the common courtesies they gave up at the moment of their decision to join the fight. Everyone knows this, and still it hurts.

The days after the ceremony are filled with numbness. The ship needs to be repaired, and there is danger all around. Morpheus is not yet willing to return to Zion, not ready to subject Neo to the scrutiny and skepticism of the Council, though everyone desperately needs a rest. He has not been the same since his capture by the Agents. He refuses to take a rest, though Trinity orders him off duty and takes the pilot's chair. Morpheus stands silently behind her, staring blindly at the viewscreen as she navigates skillfully through the tunnels. She does not speak to Neo anymore unless it is absolutely necessary. It has been three weeks since that blind kiss in the dark shattered core, and neither one of them has spoken another word about it. It is as if it has never even happened. Tank neglects himself, lost in grief for his brother. He stops eating, stops cleaning his wounds. He comes down with a high fever and violent chills, and still he does nothing. He simply does not care anymore.

Neo wanders the innards of the crippled ship in a daze, feeling out of place among all this grief. He does not want to admit it, but he is utterly terrified by the events of his last experience in the Matrix. He feels rude and presumptuous thinking only of himself in the midst of everyone's grief, but try as he might, he cannot find it in himself to grieve for these people he barely knew. Even to do so feels wrong. He does not belong here. This is not his world, and never will be. He will never truly fit in.

He does not sleep, but instead wanders the dark corridors of the ship by night, thinking that he can feel it breathing beneath his feet as he walks along through the narrow tunnels, staring up through the grated ceiling at the core above his head. It is like a living thing, somehow, so much more alive than anything he has ever felt in the world of the Matrix, and this terrifies him.

* * *

One night—he has lost track of time in this place, and does not know how long it has been anymore—he finds himself standing at the doorway of the engine room, and is shocked to see her here too. Neo stands paralyzed at the sight of her, staring though he knows he should not be. She must want to be left alone, and yet he cannot bring himself to leave. She is sitting on the ground, her back to the wall, knees drawn up to her chest and encircled by her whippet-thin arms. She has shed her customary gray sweater and is shivering in her sleeveless black undershirt, though it is warmer here than anywhere else on the ship. She is barefoot. Instinctively, she looks up at him, strange, pale blue eyes obscured by tendrils of dark hair and ringed by dark circles of exhaustion. For the first time, he is struck by just how young she is. She has always seemed so intense, so confident, so _fierce _that he has never before noticed the sadness in her face. Before he has time to think about what he is doing, he goes over and sits beside her, a few feet away. 

"Can't sleep either?" he asks, slightly startled by the sound of his own voice. No one talks much anymore either.

She shakes her head at him, but surprisingly does not seem angry at his intrusion.

"I never sleep if I can help it. Not since I got…here."

"When was that?" The questions come in a flood, threatening to overwhelm him as he suddenly realizes he knows nothing about her. The only thing he knows is the burning desire, the need to be close to her—the need that for one sparkling glorious moment all those weeks ago he thought she shared. But this is the first time since then that she has managed to look him in the eye, to talk to him as anything other than an officer under her command, and now the crushed hope begins to bubble up again.

"Twelve years ago," she answers without hesitation, eyes flicking down to something on the floor. Neo looks up to see a rather large cockroach skittering across the deck. He is surprised, though he has been told they are the only species of animal life still in existence outside of the programs in the Matrix. "I was sixteen."

The words come as a shock. He knows he is vastly older than most newly-freed, and yet he cannot imagine trying to fathom all of this at such a young age. He knows deep down that it is a good thing he was so hard to find. He could not have been as strong as they all have been.

"Weren't you homesick?"

Trinity shakes her head, another lock of dark hair falling across her eyes. She does not bother to brush it away anymore.

"No. Morpheus didn't take me away from home. I left there when I was twelve. Couldn't stand it anymore. My mother died when I was too young to remember, and my father never let me forget the fact that he had wanted a boy." She laughs a little, darkly. "Appropriate, isn't it? When I finally managed to make a name for myself, everyone assumed I had to be a guy. Daddy would be so proud."

Neo laughs a little himself, though what he really feels is shock and outrage. He cannot imagine anyone forcing her to such extreme measures.

"Where did you go?"

She shrugs.

"Hung around the city. Learned to defend myself as best I could. Had the luck to stumble into a ring of organized crime, got picked up by a druglord. That's where I learned to hack. And where Morpheus found me."

Neo shakes his head. He cannot imagine doing such a thing.

"Jesus," is all he can find to say. The train of thought finished, he realizes suddenly that she is still shivering, more violently now. He scoots over along the floor and puts and arm around her shoulders. She does not move. "You okay?"

Trinity nods, very slowly. Her eyes stare straight ahead, but he knows she is not seeing this room full of cobbled-together equipment. Her voice is flat as she speaks now, controlled to a perfectly practiced monotone.

"My first crew was like the family I'd never had. I loved them, and I think that they loved me. But then there was an accident…one of the first encounters with an agent…and four of them were killed. And I thought that…I couldn't afford to be close anymore. Because we're soldiers, and any one of us could die at any moment. So I taught myself not to feel. But then I realized that that was wrong too. That the closeness is what we're fighting for. If we lose the ability to feel then we become like them. Like the machines. But it's too late for that. I can't go back. I can't make myself feel anything anymore…it's just…so empty."

"Trinity…" Neo is floored by her honesty. He has never heard her speak like this before, never had anyone trust him so completely. It is an honor. It is a blessing. And it is utterly frightening. He leans closer and hooks the fingers of his free hand beneath her chin, turning her face toward his. She tenses beneath his arm, and for a moment he is afraid. "I bet you can still feel this." He leans in and kisses her before he has time to think twice and doubt what he is doing. The contact is an explosion of feeling, fire and ice, an electric shock. She moans a little, and suddenly he is glad they are sitting; he is sure his legs would not hold him if he were standing up. His hand has moved down now, away from her face, clasped on the place where neck meets shoulder. Hers has come up, pressing lightly against his cheek, urging him closer.

"Jesus, Neo," she gasps after a moment, pulling away. He leans closer again, but she holds up a hand for him to stop. "Not here. Please, not here." Her voice is tight with an emotion he cannot read.

He somehow finds the strength to get to his feet, and leans down, offering her his hands. She allows him to pull her up and guide her through the bowels of the ship, to his quarters. He closes the door and turns on the light, then feels shy. She raises her eyes to meet his again, and suddenly he realizes they are sparkling with unshed tears. Confidence regained, he leads her over to the bed and gently pushes her sit down, then kneels behind her, fingers working gently to unknot the tense muscles of her back and shoulders. He has never had a successful relationship before, hardly even tried to have one in the Matrix. But tonight it is as if some unseen force is guiding him, and suddenly he is sure that this is right. After a few minutes, he ends the massage, his hands coming to rest lightly on her shoulders. She swings her legs up onto the side of the bed and turns to face him. She is still struggling not to cry, he realizes, and wraps his arms around her. She struggles in his grasp, but he does not let go.

"Neo, I can't…I—I'll break…"

'Break' is a term he has heard a lot lately. Though it is the correct term to describe someone who has gone insane from the shock of being unplugged, it is used often to describe a crew member who has had a traumatic experience, who is having nightmares, or who has cried in front of fellow officers. Neo tightens his grip.

"Trinity, I think that's exactly what you need right now."

"The hell it is," she mutters, but her voice has no conviction. She is already too far lost in the torrent of emotion. "I haven't fucking cried since I got here."

"Then stop fighting it," he whispers into her hair. And somehow, she obeys. He rubs her back as she sobs, a tight, ragged sound, years of loneliness at last being shed into the chest of her savior.

A long while later, when her crying is spent, Neo helps her into bed, pulling the blankets over her, then curling himself around her. She is unexpectedly soft in his arms, and he realizes for the first time how fragile her body is. He clings tighter as they drift off to sleep, suddenly terrified of losing her.

* * *

Want more? 


	2. Going Home

Author's Note: Okay, so the overwhelming response was for more of this fic. I have to say I agree, as I have since had more thoughts about things I would like to include. It took me a while to make this decision because I'm really happy with the way the first chapter turned out, and I'm not sure I can pull off this style as well for an entire fic. But apparently you guys think I can, and so I'm going to give it a try. It won't be a novel like The Greenhouse Effect is intended to be, but I'd like to at least explore "Kid's Story" and "A Detective Story" a little more fully, as well as how Link came to be aboard the Neb. And so, with that, I am diving into the abyss of yet another new fic, and begging you to stay with me on the journey. It will probably be more character than action, but it will not by any means be all fluff. Please be patient if updates take longer; I am, after all, writing two fics now instead of one. Oh, and if you haven't already, check out The Greenhouse Effect and let me know what you think of it.

With that, I'm going to shut up and hope you enjoy this chapter.

Michelle

* * *

Chapter 2

Trinity wakes first when the morning comes; her body has had years to acclimate to the rhythms of life on this ship. It takes her a moment to remember the previous night's events, and at first she is disoriented. She sits up as quietly as possible and watches Neo sleep. His hair is still short, barely even an inch long, and his face does not yet bear the telltale lines of exhaustion and grief that have become the signature of the Resistance. He still looks so innocent. Upon remembering her outburst the night before she is slightly embarrassed, but the feeling fades quickly, more than overwhelmed by her affection for the sleeping man lying beside her. She reaches forward and slowly runs one finger along the length of his jaw, savoring the feeling of his skin. He stirs beneath her touch, almond eyes opening just a little to peer at her sleepily, and for a second she is sorry that she has awakened him. But then he smiles, and that feeling is banished as well.

"You're still here," says Neo drowsily.

She cannot help but smile a little at the look of shining wonder on his face. What did he expect? But then, for just a moment, the doubt reappears. What if she is interpreting this all wrong? Perhaps he did not intend for her to stay. Perhaps his actions were meant only to help a friend in need, or maybe even to help himself. She has seen it before, after all, people getting close to one another solely due to isolation. And suddenly the fear is there, the thing that has haunted her dreams since that first visit—the Oracle's prophecy said only that _she _would fall in love with the One. It made no guarantee that he would love her in return.

"What's wrong?" he asks, baffled by her silence. He props himself up on one elbow and fixes her with those eyes.

"Nothing," she says quickly, her voice sounding forced and too loud in her own ears. "But as far as my still being here…you're stuck with me now. So deal with it."

It is the way she has always dealt with things that frighten her—to attack it. She has never run away from anything in her life. Instead she uses the anger. The anger is always there, just a breath away when she needs it most. It is left over from her time at home, from her childhood. It is knowing that she has been robbed of a mother's love. It is hearing every day that she is not good enough, will _never _be good enough. It is knowing that when she ran away, her father did nothing to find her.

But Neo only laughs. He throws his head back and laughs and laughs, so loud she is sure the entire ship can hear it. The laughter is a sound of pure joy, and this is utterly baffling. It is the first time he has really laughed since he was unplugged; it is the first real laugh Trinity has heard in years. She stares at him curiously for a moment, but then she catches the spark and begins to laugh too. It is a strange feeling, cathartic and somehow liberating. They lie there, laughing and laughing until they are both blinded by tears and painfully out of breath.

"Shit, Trinity," he gasps when at last he has found his voice again, rolling onto his side to face her.

"What?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I never thought that…I…and you…and I…and…" he shrugs and dissolves into laughter again.

"Why not?" she asks, getting slightly impatient now. She cannot understand how he can think himself unworthy.

"Because you…you're the most incredible woman I've ever met. You're a goddess, Trinity. And I…" he trails off again and looks down, long fingers playing along a wrinkle in the blanket. "I'm a hacker geek with a bad day job."

Her cheeks burn hot, and she cannot meet his gaze either. She watches his hand instead, suddenly as fascinated with the wrinkle as he is.

"Neo…you know none of that is real," she manages at last. "Don't ever let anyone believe that's who you are. And for what it's worth, you never were. It just takes the right person to see through."

The feat returns as the words leave her lips; she is still sure, somehow, that he is going to reject her. But then suddenly he is there, rolling on top of her, taking her lips captive with his. The kiss takes her by surprise, and she is mortified to hear herself moan at the contact. She is not the kind of woman who screams at a man's touch. And then his hands are there too, running hungrily up and down her sides, and she is lost, gold spots dancing before her eyes. When he pulls away at last it is wrenching, like waking suddenly from a heavenly dream. She opens her mouth to say something, but the sound of heavy footfalls in the corridor outside is a cruel reminder of the day's duties ahead. Trinity sits up, giving Neo an apologetic look as she disentangles herself from his arms.

"We should…we should go," she says at last, forcing herself out of bed. "There's still a lot of repair work to be done."

"Yeah," says Neo absently, reminding her for a moment of the night they first made contact. "Sure."

She leans over and kisses his forehead as she turns to leave.

"I'll meet you in the mess hall, okay?"

He nods, eyes still filled with that absent look. For a moment, she envies his ability to daydream.

* * *

The mess hall onboard the Nebuchadnezzar is cold. As always. Morpheus is already there when Neo arrives, along with Tank, who has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and is shivering violently. There are two bowls of untouched rations in front of them, the cold goop rapidly forming a dried skin around the edges of the bowl. Neo cringes and goes over to the spigot to pour himself a bowl. He nods to his captain and to Tank as he sits down at the other end of the table, then ladles up a spoonful of the goop and lets it drip back out. He knows he should eat, that he needs the energy, but he feels completely filled with emotion and unable to consume anything else after the previous night's discovery. Trinity comes in a moment later and sits across from him with her own bowl of goop and a mug of cold black Zion "coffee," which is even worse than the instant stuff Neo remembers from the Matrix. She nods at Morpheus and shoots a concerned look at Tank before acknowledging Neo with a slight flick of her eyes. She dips a spoon into the bowl and brings it carefully to her lips, eating slowly as though savoring the stuff. Neo stares for a moment, marveling at how she can even look graceful while eating utter slop. No one speaks for a long time—they all know that Morpheus will make the day's mission known when he is ready.

"Trinity," he says at last, when they have all tired of picking at their meal, "Neo. Come with me."

Morpheus and Trinity get up without a word and begin to head out of the mess hall. Neo sits watching Tank for a moment, but leaves as well when the other man does not speak. They follow Morpheus through the Core and up to the cockpit. Neo has only been up here once before, and he cannot help marveling at the view.

"Trinity, I need you to pilot for me today," says Morpheus after a moment. He sounds weary, and Neo realizes suddenly that he has hardly been off duty since his rescue three weeks prior.

"Where?" asks Trinity, taking the pilot's chair.

"In," says Morpheus, and Trinity's pale eyes widen. "And brief Neo. He'll need to know what to expect."

"Sir," says Trinity as he turns to leave, "may I ask where you're going?"

Morpheus looks slightly taken aback; she is not usually so formal with him.

"My cabin," he says simply. "You may call for me when you are within range."

Trinity only nods as he leaves, but she looks satisfied. Neo stands watching her hands fly over the controls for a moment, feeling useless and out of place. She turns to look at him over her shoulder as she finishes setting in the coordinates and cocks her head at the copilot's chair. _Sit. _

He obeys, then gives her a quizzical look.

"Where are we going?" It does not matter that he has learned to fly in the Matrix, he is still lost and afraid in the real world.

"To Zion," she says simply, her eyes glued to the viewscreen.

"What does that mean for us?"

"Good news and bad news," answers Trinity, sounding slightly amused. "Which would you like first?"

"The bad news," says Neo automatically. He always takes the bad news first; it is his lot in life.

"The Council is going to grill you. Morpheus has taken a lot of heat in the past few years for his steadfast belief in the prophecy. There are a lot of skeptics in Zion. They will subject you to tests to prove that you're the One, and they won't believe any of the results regardless. You just have to ignore them. Maybe worse than the skeptics are the believers. There are people in Zion who treat all Resistance members as celebrities. They follow us around and ask us to protect them…they don't realize there's nothing we can do. That's the worst of it, they trust us so blindly, and the truth is…truth is, if a real attack came, I don't know what the hell we could do to stop it." She pauses and regards him silently for a moment. "It's bad enough as it is, and you can be sure you'll get it tenfold."

Neo catches his breath. He is not used to attention. He does not like crowds, does not like public speaking, does not even like people looking at him. To be regarded as a celebrity, to be expected to lead…the full force of it weighs on him like a load of lead. For a moment he struggles to breathe.

"And the good news?" he manages at last.

Trinity gives him a little half-smile, lips just barely turned up at the corners.

"Real food. And a room with a door that locks."

Neo grins. He is reminded suddenly how much he misses such simple luxuries. The thought of a real meal and privacy is enough to make him feel a good deal better.

They fall silent, and Neo watches the viewscreen. The tunnels get darker as they near the core, and the rock changes from gray to brown to an almost-red. Stalactites and stalagmites jut out all around, creating dangerous obstacles for Trinity to maneuver past. She flies like everything else she does—gracefully and seemingly without effort. He becomes so drawn in that he is startled when Tank approaches.

Tank still has the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and is shivering even more violently now, sweat pouring down his forehead. His dark eyes look vacant and oddly glazed. Trinity turns around in her seat and regards him with a look of alarm.

"Tank, are you all right? Do you need to get to the med bay?"

He shakes his head. It seems to take great concentration for him to speak.

"Hurry, Trin."

"What is it?"

"I want to see home again."

For a moment Trinity looks as if she might cry again, then she turns sharply back to her control panel and locks her gaze on it. And suddenly Neo realizes why Morpheus has changed his mind so abruptly. He is taking Tank home to die.

* * *

Any authors interested in reviving some kind of Matrix archive outside of ff.n? Email or IM me please!


	3. Unity

Author's Note: Warning—not very graphic sex scene toward the end of the chapter. If you're going to be offended, don't read, though I really don't think it's anything to be worried about.

* * *

Chapter 3: Unity

Neo's first glance of Zion makes his legs go weak. The city is huge, sprawling out, filling the caverns beneath the Earth's surface with a thousand rock and metal dwellings—a testament to man's will to survive. They are met by a crew of medics who take the still-shivering Tank away to be treated and give Neo strange glances. Morpheus leads the way off of the landing pad and into what appears to be a large cargo elevator. Neo follows, Trinity close on his heels. The older man does not speak until the doors are closed completely.

"Neo, listen to me. Word of your arrival has begun to spread to the city, but the people do not yet know enough to be able to recognize you. If you keep a low profile, you may be able to explore the city this afternoon without being detected. If I were you, I would take that opportunity, as it may be your last chance to spend a day unnoticed. There is a Council meeting tomorrow morning, after which the entire city will know who and what you are."

Neo swallows hard and stares at the grated floor of the still-moving elevator. He does not like the feel of this place, has always been claustrophobic, and now is terrified at the thought of being buried thousands of meters underground. The thought of having to address crowds of followers is more terrifying still.

"What are you saying?" he forces himself to ask as the elevator comes to a rough stop, jolting its passengers. It takes Neo by surprise and he grabs for the wall, nearly falling. Trinity reaches out to steady him and his cheeks burn hot for what seems like the hundredth time already this morning. She offers him a sympathetic little half-smile and his embarrassment grows. HE still cannot comprehend why a woman as brave and strong as she would choose the clumsy, shy shell of a man that he is over the entirety of Zion.

"I am saying," clarifies Morpheus, as they walk out of the elevator and into the city's center, "that if you would like, I will take this afternoon to show you around your new home before anything is expected of you."

Neo feels his heart speed up and his stomach turn over dangerously at the sound of the word "home." He will never, can never feel at home in this place. HE is stranded now, lost, condemned to wander in this buried world for the rest of his life.

"Well?" says Morpheus, jolting him out of his reverie.

Neo casts a longing glance at Trinity; they have hardly had a moment alone since the previous morning, and suddenly the prospect of a room with a door that locks is foremost in his mind. Trinity offers him that grief-tinged smile and shakes her head. This is time he must spend with his mentor.

"Go," she says softly. "There's plenty of time."

* * *

Ghost is waiting for her at the door when she arrives, fixing her with that ever-knowing gaze. She sighs. Apparently the Logos has been informed, or at least knows, though she is sure they have not bought into it. Niobe is the most widely known steadfast skeptic in the fleet. Still, Ghost is an old friend, and it is nice to see him, though she had hoped to be alone.

"How long have you been here?" she asks, grinning at him and dialing her code to unlock the door.

Ghost shrugs and follows her inside.

"How did you know I'd come?"

Ghost respectfully takes the chair farthest from the bed and sits down slowly.

"If one waits long enough, he will always achieve his goal." Ghost offers her a hint of a rare smile. "And I heard Morpheus was brining the Neb home for a little shore leave."

Trinity sits on the bed, crossing her long legs, and regards him questioningly. The apartment smells slightly musty; though it has been hers since her eighteenth birthday, she has never slept in it for more than a week at a time. Like her cabin aboard the Nebuchadnezzar, the apartment is empty almost to the point of being barren. She has never had any use for pretty things, has never considered herself deserving of anything beyond the bare necessities. She is a warrior to her crew and all of Zion, a woman only in the most private recesses of her own mind.

"Niobe told me…Morpheus believes he has found the One," says Ghost, shattering her thoughts.

Trinity nods slowly, forcing herself to meet Ghost's dark gaze. He is the only one who knows what the Oracle has told her.

"Has he?"

Trinity nods again, unable to speak past the all-too familiar tightness in her throat. Ghost shakes himself visibly and gets up, neatly pushing the chair back to its original position.

"I'll let you get settled."

"Ghost, I—" She breaks off at the look of shattered devastation in his eyes the moment before he turns away to regain control. For a moment she considers telling him that she knows, that she has always known, that she treasures his love beyond all else and yet is terrified by it. But the words do not come, never come, and the moment passes before she has a chance to say anything. "Thank you. You know you'll always be my brother."

Ghost nods curtly, turns, and walks out without so much as a goodbye.

She sits on the bed for a long time afterward, lost in thought. She always feels lost in Zion, excluded from the community. The ever-present loneliness is most intense here.

The footsteps and voices in the hallway make her jump—it feels as though only a few moments have passed, but she realizes suddenly it must be more like hours. They are back already and she is unprepared. She gets up and goes over to the door but does not open it, feeling strange. She waits until she hears Morpheus leave and Neo's tentative knock. He offers her that shy smile and steps inside at her beckoning. He is carrying a package, something wrapped loosely in the coarse recycled paper used in the Zion shops.

"Back already?" She returns to the bed and sits on it, feeling insecure.

He nods and follows, standing over her and gesturing to the package. It takes a moment for him to find his voice, and even when he does it is soft and uncertain.

"For you. Something I found in one of the shops."

His hands shake as he hands the bundle over. The rough paper falls away to reveal an amulet on a delicate silver chain.  
The stone in the center is cerulean blue and seems to glow even in the dim light of the apartment.

"Neo…" She is struck speechless, breathless, unable to respond. She stands and wraps her arms around his neck very slowly, fighting tears. He presses one hand awkwardly to the small of her back, long fingers gently massaging the taut muscles there.

"Hey, hey, it was nothing." He sounds embarrassed. She is not usually so emotional.

She forces herself to pull away and sits back on the bed, grabbing his hands and pulling him down beside her. He cups her cheek in one palm as he leans in to kiss her. His lips work gently over hers, unbelievably soft. She shivers at his touch. She can feel his hunger, his desperation burning hot, but he is holding back out of respect for her. It is nothing like the harsh, bruising kisses she has known in the past, and she is left breathless when he pulls away, though it has only lasted a few seconds.

The guilt hits her almost instantly and she turns away. The purity in his touch makes her feel soiled, contaminated, unworthy of his worship.

"What is it?" he asks softly, sensing her discomfort.

"Neo,I…I have to tell you something. You need to know…and afterward…if you want to leave I'll understand."

"Trinity…" He takes her firmly by the shoulders, his face filled with a dismayed sort of bewilderment. "I would never…"

"Please, just listen," she says firmly.

"All right," he says softly.

"Before Morpheus found me…when I was…"

"With the drug lord?" Neo supplies as she trails off, unable to say it still.

"Yes. The reason he noticed me wasn't for my brilliant hacking skills." She stares at her lap. "I left that part out when we talked earlier. I um…I had to do something to make a living and…I didn't have much to work with."

"Trinity…"

"Being a girl, I…did what all the other street girls did. I never did understand why it worked. Men always tell me I'm beautiful…I don't know where that—"

"_Trinity_." He cuts her off and leans over, wrapping her in a crushing hug. She leans into him and lets herself be washed in his warmth, a wave of relief making her blissfully weak. "Trinity, listen to me. I don't care what you had to do to get here. I'm just damn glad that you did it. And that you're here now." He pulls one arm away and finds her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "Feel this, Trinity? I'm never letting go."

She opens her mouth to reply, but he kisses her before she can find the words. His lips move faster now, searching hers, but his touch is still light. When he pulls away after a moment, he is flushed and sweating, short bangs plastered to his forehead.

"Neo," she breathes, struggling to maintain composure. "Stop holding back. You won't hurt me, you know."

He blushes even redder, though she had thought this impossible only a moment before.

"Sorry…I just…don't have much experience with this." He shrugs sheepishly.

"Neo…stop thinking about it and you'll be fine. Come on. What are you waiting for?"

Trinity leans back in, brings one hand up to the back of his neck and kisses him hard, her tongue sweeping across his closed lips. He opens his mouth with a gasp that makes her heart speed up, his hands digging into the rough fabric of her sweater. She swings her legs up onto the side of the bed and roles over onto it without disengaging, forcing him to turn until he's kneeling directly above her. She unwraps her arms from around his neck and gently takes hold of the hem of his shirt, caressing the exposed skin of his stomach with her thumbs. He moans softly, a constricted, desperate sound, then shifts so he's straddling her on the bed. She urges him closer and swiftly rolls the shirt over his head.

"Trin," he gasps, breath coming too raggedly to complete her name. He tentatively slips his fingers under the edge of all her layers of shirts, hands shaking. "May I?"

She laughs a little, shocked at the sudden use of her old nickname, and charmed by the fact that he still feels a need to ask.

"Jesus, Neo, you don't have to ask." She reaches down and pulls the layers of clothing off herself, hoping this will make him less uncertain. He stares at her for a moment, wide-eyed, then seems to make up his mind. His lips trace her sharp collarbone, moving down. Her hands circle his back, her fingers finding their way inside his waistband. He writhes against her, then rolls off just long enough to wrestle his pants off. She does the same, never taking her eyes off his. She grasps his waist, urging him closer. His chest is heaving, entire body wracked with emotion.

"You sure about this?" he asks, fingers digging into her back.

"Could you stop now if I said no?" she asks, a glint of mischief lighting up her eyes.

He looks terrified for a moment, eyes going impossibly wide. She laughs at the look of sheer terror, though she feels a pang of guilt at scaring him so badly. His entire body goes slack at her admittance of the joke.

"Jesus, Trinity, don't do that to me!"

"Then stop asking!" she insists, slightly frustrated. She has never before imagined it like this. In her dreams he has always been completely certain, her match, the knight who can play parry to her warrior woman image. But this, she realizes now that it is here, is the only way it can be. She could never submit to anyone who attempted to sweep her off her feet.

She takes hold of his hips, guiding him down. He groans, visibly biting his lip to keep from crying out. The contact is like a small explosion, an electric shock. It is so intense it is almost too much to bear. He buries his face in her shoulder as he moves against her, lips burning a path over her neck. She grabs his shoulders, clinging desperately as the current of emotion threatens to sweep her away.

It is over too quickly, far too soon, in an explosion of heat and passion. It is a shock, the warmth afterward tainted with desperation, the feeling that something this good can never last. The fear of separation is only intensified by their act of unification.

Neo rolls away at last, onto his side, and Trinity turns to face him. She realizes suddenly that he is crying silently, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks like rain. She moves closer, cupping his chin in one hand, caressing his lips with her thumb.

"What is it?"

He shakes his head, unable to put the feeling into words.

"It's…I just…I'm so scared, Trinity. I don't know if I can do this. I'm so…I've never felt anything…It hurts, Trin. Knowing it'll have to end someday."

She smiles sadly at him, elated and yet filled with a strange pang of melancholy at the same time.

"I know, Neo. Shit, do I know."

She leans up and kisses him again, very softly this time. His lips are salty with tears, and he curls himself around her, huge eyes filled with utter helplessness.

He is still a child, she realizes suddenly, in his own way. Still learning. He will have to, if there is to be any hope for the future.

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Review please!


	4. Neverland

Author's Note: Once again, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers. You all make me feel loved. A special thank you to Bagpipes5K2 for helping me so much with this fic, as well as Greenhouse. Everyone who likes Space needs to go check out "Souls in Winter." It rocks.

Glenak—Thanks for the suggestion, but the non-traditional style is the main reason I'm writing this fic. After two novels and three novellas in the usual third person past tense, I wanted to try something experimental. So far I'm really pleased with the way it's turning out, and the response has been great. As far as it not being in novel-style, I cite for you Gregory Maguire's "Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister" which is written entirely in third person present tense.

Just a brief note to all my readers, I'm going to be drowning in tech and performances for my show in the next two weeks, so if I fall behind on updates, that's why. I'll get back on track at the soonest moment as possible—there's no way I'm abandoning my new audience. These two fics are rapidly becoming my children.

NOTE PLEASE READ sleeping awakeyou are absolutely right. :hits self on head: That, dear readers, is what I get for working at two in the morning. Thanks for bringing that up, it's fixed now.

Chapter 4—Neverland

It is the middle of the night when he wakes again, brought out of a fitful sleep by a sudden swell of uneasiness. It is too quiet here, he realizes suddenly, the ever-present hum of the engines strangely absent. He has never been able to sleep in a room without some sort of background noise; silence rings deafeningly in his ears, reminding him that he is alone. The silence leaves too much space for other thoughts to reverberate in.

She is lying with her back to him, though he can tell already from the sound of her breathing that she is awake as well. He leans up and kisses the back of her neck softly, her hair tickling his cheek. She rolls over to face him, smiling a little in the dark.

"Still can't sleep?" she asks softly, reaching out to touch his face.

He shakes his head slightly, eyes still locked with hers. Meeting her gaze is like stepping into an electric current; it is a heady, exhilarating feeling, but dangerous in its intensity. If there is one thing that has stayed with him from his previous life in the Matrix is the knowledge that anything capable of bringing such joy is equally capable of bringing pain if suddenly torn away.

"Then talk to me," she says softly.

He shrugs, suddenly unable to find any words. At this thought, a sudden wonderment strikes him—is it possible that they, so newly joined, have already run out of things to say?

She shrugs in return, a sparkle of amusement lighting up her ice-blue eyes. They seem somehow to glow in the dark, catlike. He has hardly ever seen her sleep and yet somehow she seems tired even less frequently.

"Anything. I hardly know anything about you."

He realizes then that she is right, in nearly six months they have barely spoken any more than necessary.

"I thought you knew my darkest secrets," he teases. "You watched me for a whole year before you made contact, didn't you?"

"Yes. But I want to hear it from you. Your story."

"But none of it's real. Why does it matter?"

"It's still your story. You'll find stories matter a lot here, since we have no recorded history. Stories are all we have."

"I don't know!" he repeats, feeling ridiculous. He cannot think of anything to tell her that will seem even the least bit interesting. "I'm just your average boring guy." He rolls over onto his back, not wanting to see the look of disappointment in her eyes.

"All right, if you're going to be like that." She sighs, but her voice is playful. She roles onto her stomach and balances above him, one hand on either side of his chest. One rogue piece of hair comes loose from behind her ears and falls across her forehead, just barely touching the tip of her nose.

"Then what?" he asks, grinning.

"Then I'll just have to tell you your own story."

Neo perks up, curious to hear what she has to say. He has spent nights lying awake wondering what she must think of him from her time spent observing.

"So who am I?"

Her smile widens, a private smirk that somehow seems to say that she knows things about him he does not even know about himself.

"Hmm…you're the most decent, sensitive guy I've ever met. That's the first thing about you that caught my attention." She leans over and kisses his chin, moving her lips up his jaw with each sentence. "You used to help your landlady take out her trash. You made sure she always had fresh groceries and a door that locked properly, and every Sunday night you cooked her dinner. You stayed up past midnight every single night, running searches on your computer and playing Tetris because you said it made you numb. Once you cried over a newspaper story about a little boy who was murdered. You said you couldn't stand to live in a world where people were capable of such hatred. You used to talk to yourself because you needed to remind yourself you were awake and not trapped in some perpetual nightmare."

"Trinity…" He finds his eyes suddenly wet with tears. He is touched beyond belief by her perception, in awe of the fact that another person can understand him so fully, and oddly homesick, though he has no wish to return to his old hell. He wraps his arms around her waist and rolls onto his side, pulling her with him. Her lips find his in the dark, and he is swept away in the feeling of skin on skin.

A loud knock at the door brings him back to rude reality. He falls back against the bed, groaning loudly and groping around for his clothes. He is suddenly disoriented, and he nearly falls over the side of the bed, getting tangled up in the sheets.

"Shit," mutters Trinity, quickly slipping on clothes in the dark. "I'll go."

Neo manages to find his clothes at last, and pulls them on as he listens to Trinity talking softly with their visitor. Their voices are low and hushed, but he can practically taste the tension that has suddenly entered the room. She comes back after a moment, taking him by the arm and helping him up without bothering to turn on the lights.

"It's Tank," she says hurriedly as she leads him to the door. "He…took something. We have to hurry."

Neo races down the dark corridor and into the lift, shivering despite the artificial heat regulated by the Zion climate controls. Morpheus is a few paces ahead of them. Neo's head swims with the gravity of everything that has happened in the last few hours. They reach Tank's apartment far too fast for him, and the fear intensifies. He cannot stand another loss so soon.

They are greeted at the door by a dark-skinned man in a brown shirt and ragged linen pants. His face, framed by long dreadlocks, fills with surprise at the sight of Neo.

"Who—"

A woman pushes her way past the man before he has a chance to finish the question, ushering them inside.

"No time now. Introductions later." She is tall and pleasantly curved, her skin the same dark chocolate of the man's. Long dark curls fall down her back, captured in a crown of tiny braids across her forehead.

The woman takes Trinity by the arm and leads her inside. Neo casts an uncertain glance at Morpheus, then follows him inside, feeling out of place. He has only known Tank for a few months; suddenly his presence here feels like an intrusion.

"What happened?" asks Trinity as they step into the dimly lit room.

"He walked out of the infirmary in the middle of the night," answers the woman in a trembling voice. "Overdosed on painkillers, apparently, and came here. He insisted that we wake you."

He is lying on a bed in the corner of the room, partially covered by an old tattered blanket. His eyes are open, though the lids are dropping heavily. Beads of sweat are visible on his forehead. He is shivering.

Trinity goes over to the side of the bed and kneels down, taking his hand.

"What happened, Tank?" she asks softly.

He perks up a little at the sight of her, turning his head toward her with a great effort.

"I couldn't…it's too much, Trin. Too much…hurt."

She nods slowly, eyes filling with tears. She stretches her eyelids wider, refusing to blink and let the tears fall.

"I know," she says softly, her voice sounding oddly husky.

Tank shudders suddenly, a chill wracking his body violently. His face is pale and gaunt, the usual smile gone from his eyes. He has lost far too much weight over the past few weeks, and his face looks eerily like a skull in the dim light.

"Tank…" She starts to say something, but her voice cracks dangerously and she trails off.

"Don't worry about me, Trin," says Tank softly. There is an odd kind of peace in his voice now, the strain wearing away. "I'm going to Neverland."

Neo shifts uncomfortably, lost. While he does not feel threatened by Tank, Neo knows that he has a history with Trinity that he can never equal.

"Tank?" says the woman, obviously lost as well.

Tank smiles a little, oddly, and gestures weakly at Trinity.

"She was our Wendy…when I first joined the crew, I was thirteen. I wanted to be with Dozer...Morpheus let me, but I realized the instant I was there that I wasn't ready yet, and she…she took care of me. Of all of us…She would tell us stories to make us go to sleep. Fairy tales. We called ourselves the Lost Boys because we didn't have parents. She used to tell us that we were going to Neverland someday, when the fighting was over…I guess I get to go there now." He trails off, exhausted. His head falls to the side, and his eyes flutter. He is fading fast.

The dark-skinned woman goes over and kneels beside Trinity, taking Tank's other hand.

"Tank," she says, her voice choked with tears, "tell Dozer we miss him and we love him."

Trinity leans over and kisses his forehead lightly, then smoothes the covers over his chest.

"Enjoy flying, Peter," she says softly, then sits back. He is already gone.

She looks up at Neo, and something in her eyes fills him with fear. She is so full of hurt he is sure he can never offer enough comfort.

Review please!


	5. Fire and Ice

Author's Note: This chapter is partially inspired by DanaScully's fic "Enough" over at The Construct. Go and check it out, it's awesome.

It's opening night...wish me luck!

Daydreamer731

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Chapter 5: Fire and Ice 

The remainder of their stay in Zion is strange. Neo wanders by night, watching the city sleep. By day he sits in on Council meetings, listening to Morpheus argue on his behalf and answering them over and over again that he _does not know _how he is able to do the things he has done. Always, there is ice in his veins and a strange hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. Over and over he tells himself that this is _real, _but it all feels like a fever dream.

Trinity retreats into herself again, but this time there is a finality to her grief that frightens him. She hardly eats or sleeps, and does not bother with her hair, though it is forever in her face. She refuses to appear before the Council, instead spending long hours in the sparring simulations and in the run-down workout rooms, pushing her already fine-tuned body to its limits. A strange fire burns behind her eyes, and it scares Neo that she no longer wants his attempts at comfort. He is constantly afraid now, terrified that their fledgling relationship is already at its end, doomed from birth.

He goes into the city center one evening when the Council has ended its deliberations for the day, braving the incredulous and awe-filled stares of the people to find a small shop that always has delicious odors pouring out of it. It is a bakery, of sorts, though the bread is flat, due to the lack of yeast, and dark from the coarse wheat flower. Still, it is moist and sweet, and Neo figures it is the best candidate for the job he has in mind tonight. He buys a loaf of the stuff and a thermos of coffee, and heads up to the training level.

She is stretched out on the floor doing a series of rapid push-ups when he arrives, her dark hair hiding her face so that he cannot read her expression. Her breathing is fast and sounds too shallow to him; he can tell she is in pain, but does not say anything. He knows that this silent torture is her choosing and she will be angry if he interrupts.

"Brought you something to eat," he says, when she stops to breathe at last, nearly collapsing onto her stomach.

She rolls over and looks up at him, eyes strangely translucent in the low light. Her gaze seems to go straight through him, searching. He hesitates for a moment, then offers her a hand. She does not take it, instead struggling her way up to sit on what looks to be something of an old treadmill. There are cobwebs on the belt, and Neo seriously doubts if it is still functional. She leans over, hands on her knees, obviously hurting. She looks deathly pale, and there are lines at the corners of her eyes he has not noticed before.

"Thanks," she mutters without looking at him, "but no thanks. Go to bed, Neo."

"You need to eat," he insists, pushing the package toward her.

She glares at him. Something inside him seems to snap; she has never directed a look of such pure rage and hatred at him.

"I'm not going to, so you may as well give up and go to bed. You need your sleep so you can go and be impressive in front of the Council. Zion needs you, you know. They need their _savior_. God forbid, you should let them down." The words are uttered with a sneer; his blood begins to boil. He has never heard her talk like this.

"Trinity…if you think that I _like_ going to the Council meetings…that I _like_ the attention it gets me…"

"Hey, you're the all-powerful One. Why don't you tell me how I feel?"

She gets up and grabs a pair of handweights, the pain evident in her face as she begins a fresh repetition. And suddenly he understands. And is shocked.

"Trinity…the Council…the people…this doesn't change anything between us. It's not my choice, you know that. But I'm not going to abandon you for fame. Please don't think that."

She does not answer, instead concentrating on the weights. Neo cannot stand it anymore. An idea forms suddenly, and he puts down the parcel of food and grabs a second pair of weights, bigger than the ones she has. The sudden strain on his arms is a shock; he is exhausted, and has not trained in the real world since he was first unplugged. Still, he pushes on, biting his lip until he tastes blood, and willing himself not to look over at her.

"Neo?" Her voice is filled with concern and a little annoyance, but he can tell by the rhythm of her breathing that she has not yet stopped.

His arms burn, and black spots dance before his eyes. The entire world is pain. He begins to worry that he will not be able to last long enough for his plan to have the desired effect.

"Neo, stop."

_Come on, come on…_

He begins to count silently, to take his mind off the pain. He barely sees out of the corner of his eye that she has stopped lifting the weights and turned to face him, arms limp at her sides, still clutching the dumbbells.

"_Stop._"

"I will…" he grinds out, the effort of speaking nearly too much, "when you put those damned things down and go home."

He can no longer feel his arms, but his lungs feel as if they are on the verge of exploding. He forces himself to look up at her, and at last something in her face changes.

"Damn you, Neo."

There is nothing teasing in her voice. She is completely serious. She throws down the weights with a crash and stalks out of the room.

He bends over and lets the weights drop out of his hands with a hollow thud, then sinks down to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees. For the first time since his arrival in the real world, he dissolves into sobs of pain.

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	6. Kid

Author's Note: Sorry this was so long in coming. Pieces of Animatrix dialogue are not mine. Obviously.

* * *

Chapter 6: Kid

Very early the next morning, a message comes from Morpheus. It is time to get back to business. They are to meet with him as soon as possible in one of the small Zion cafes. Neo is still sound asleep when the message arrives, and does not wake with the sound of the door opening and closing. Trinity shakes him roughly, ignoring his protests. She is in no mood for sympathy this morning. Her entire body aches from the previous day's workout, but the pain is strangely comforting. It is a relief from the awful numbness that has come with grief.

They are silent on the way to the café, tension hanging heavy in the air. Most people are still asleep, and the day lights which ordinarily simulate sunlight have not yet come on. The claustrophobia is more intense now than ever. There is the feeling that they have been swallowed and are in the belly of some colossal monster.

The café is in the town center, the busiest area of the city. Almost everything it serves consists of some variation of the dark flatbread made from the subterranean wheat crop and something similar to the synthetic protein carried on the Resistance ships. But the food is not the reason people come here. They can eat crunchy bread anywhere in the city—this is a place where people come to be together. It is a semblance of tradition everyone clings to and no one can bear to give up.

Morpheus is sitting at a table near the back, hidden partially in shadows. Trinity suppresses a hint of a smile at this. He has always had a liking for dramatic lighting. Sometimes it seems as though he gravitates toward the darkest spot in the room without so much as a thought. As they draw nearer, a second person comes into view.

"Good morning," says Morpheus, standing up. "I trust you both slept well."

Trinity glares at him, trying to decide whether she detects a hint of humor in her usually stoic captain's voice.

"I apologize for waking you so early, but it is time we get back to business. I found us a new operator." He gestures to the other man. "Neo, this is Link."

She suppresses a pang at the words "new operator," and turns her concentration on Neo. He seems slightly uncomfortable with everything this morning, the trials of the past few weeks weighing heavy on him. Already he has lost the look of freshness that shines on the faces of new recruits and is beginning to look ragged around the edges like everyone else in the Resistance. His hand trembles a little as he reaches out to shake Link's.

"We've uh…we've met before."

Link nods and looks at the floor. His usual cheerfulness has been all but wiped out by Tank's death. It is not a surprise that Link has agreed to be their new operator; she knows that as Tank and Dozer's brother-in-law, he has promised to take over for either one of them should the need arise. Still, it seems strange. She has known their family for years now and has never really thought that this contingency plan could become a reality.

"So," says Morpheus, gesturing for them to sit down, "the Nebuchadnezzar has been fully repaired and cleared for takeoff this afternoon. I'd like to get back to broadcast depth as soon as possible."

Trinity sighs. In a way she is relieved to be getting back to work, but they are hardly prepared.

"You want us to leave _today_?" asks Neo incredulously.

Morpheus nods but does not say anything.

"What about the rest of the crew positions?" asks Trinity, taking a piece of bread from the basket in the center of the table and staring at it without eating.

"We can make do without them for the time being."

"Why is it suddenly so urgent?" asks Neo, taking a bite out of a piece of bread and choking on the dryness.

Trinity gives him a look out of the corner of her eye and resists the urge to cringe. Around the restaurant, people are beginning to come in, and she can tell by the way they steal furtive glances toward her table that they are beginning to recognize Neo.

"There are a lot of skeptics in Zion. And a lot of believers. The Council has not reached any conclusions as far as any official proclamation regarding the existence of the One. They do, however, feel that if further evidence were provided—"

"They need _more_?" interrupts Trinity, angry.

Morpheus nods again.

"That's hardly fair—"

"It's all right," Neo cuts her off. "You needed proof too."

The words sting, but she cannot deny the fact that he is right.

"So," says Morpheus, as though sensing the need for intervention. "If that is all, I will see you all this afternoon at the dock."

He pushes back his chair and stands up, the message clear. Conversation over.

* * *

It is already very late, but there is a sort of restless presence aboard the Nebuchadnezzar tonight, and no one is ready to retire. Morpheus has already retreated to his cabin, recommending to Neo that he do the same, but he does not heed the advice. Instead he makes his way back out to the core where Trinity and Link are sitting in front of the Matrix feed monitors, talking softly.

"So," says Neo, pulling up a chair.

Trinity turns toward him, giving him a disapproving look.

"You should go to bed, Neo. You know Morpheus wants you to jack in tomorrow if possible."

Neo sighs and sits down, ignoring her.

"There's no reason to at the moment. You're scanning for more potentials?"

Trinity nods, a trace of exasperation creeping across her sharp features.

"I just don't know why we have to be so damn rushed about this. It's so dangerous."

"He just wants to do everything we possibly can," counters Link.

"Even if that includes pulling people too early?"

Link smiles a little.

"You know he's always been like this. He's never going to change, Trin."

"And I'm never going to approve," she continues.

Link laughs.

"All right, then we're agreed."

Neo shifts uncomfortably in his chair, watching. They are obviously old friends, and he still feels left out of the dynamic.

"So," he says at last. "Are you watching anyone interesting?"

"Sort of," says Link, gesturing to the screen. Neo squints at it uncomfortably. He has recently become able to see things in code when inside the Matrix, but still finds it difficult seeing the images formed by the code on the screens.

"What is it?"

"A boy named Michael Popper," says Trinity, leaning toward him a little. "Teenager. He's been poking around a number of the rings we watch. Asking interesting questions."

"How old?"

"Fifteen. Goes by the very original alias 'Kid,'" supplies Link.

Neo laughs a little at that, mentally thanking-whatever once more that he had the sense to choose a good alias.

"Whoa," exclaims Trinity, interrupting his thoughts. "Look at this."

She reaches forward and taps something on the touch screen, bringing up a graphic of Michael Popper's computer screen.

_Somebody tell me_, the boy is typing. _Why it feels more real when I dream than when I am awake. How can I know if my senses are lying?_

Something seems to click in Neo's mind, a jolt of recognition and understanding. He has wondered these same things far too many times to remember.

"You think he's ready?" asks Link.

"As ready as anyone else we've been watching," answers Trinity.

"Time to go for it then?"

"You know Morpheus would say yes."

Link claps his hands together and grins.

"My favorite part. Time to do a number on his computer."

"Like you did on mine?" asks Neo, turning to Trinity.

She smiles a little, unable to conceal her pride.

"Yeah."

"How did you do that, anyway?"

"Like this," she says cryptically, leaning forward and typing a sequence of code far too fast for him to make it out. Instantly the display rearranges itself to show a message-send box—she is now logged into the ring. "Our signal is set up to disrupt the Matrix. Once we're hacked into the mainframe, it's easy enough to change parts of the simulation. Especially things like this that aren't all that closely regulated."

Neo nods, pretending to understand. He does not want to admit that yet another of her explanations has gone over his head.

"You want to talk to him?" she asks, gesturing to the keyboard.

"Me?"

"Sure. It's time you started learning some routine Resistance work." She stands up and gestures to her chair in front of the keyboard. Neo takes a deep breath, then sits down.

_There is some fiction in your truth and some truth in your fiction, _he types, the words coming with unexpected ease. _To know the truth, you must risk everything._

He looks back up at Trinity and Link, searching for signs of approval in their faces.

"Good," says Link. "Now wait for the freakout."

_Who are you? _The words come back very slowly. _Am I alone?_

The words bring a fresh flood of emotions, but he swallows them down, knowing what he must say. His fingers feel rubbery as he types.

_You are not alone._

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Review please!


	7. Self Substantiation

Chapter 7—Self Substantiation

"How long have you been watching this boy?" asks Morpheus in the mess hall at breakfast.

They are seated around the table, hovering over bowls of mush as usual. This morning, though, it feels strangely empty, almost as though the ghosts of fallen comrades are looking in on the ship, watching over their living counterparts. Neo shivers and shakes himself. That kind of thinking will get him nowhere today. Today he must prove himself once again.

"A couple weeks," says Link.

Trinity's eyebrows shoot up pointedly at Morpheus, but he seems not to notice. Neo braces himself for the coming argument.

"You believe he's ready?" This is directed to Neo.

He pauses for a moment, taken aback. He has not expected that the actual decision making will fall to him, simply that it will be up to him to implement whatever plan his captain comes up with.

"I…" He starts to say that he is not sure, then realizes that this will not be seen as an adequate answer. He also realizes that nothing he can possibly say will please everyone.

"Do _you _believe he's ready?" repeats Morpheus, more urgently this time.

Neo swallows hard. This is undoubtedly a test. He closes his eyes for a moment, picturing Michael Popper—Kid—in his mind again. The image is of a lost boy, a boy who sees things that others cannot, and who is tormented by the world for his gifts. A boy who needs to be saved.

"Yes," says Neo at last. "I believe he is ready."

Beside him, Trinity clinks her spoon against the side of her bowl more violently than usual. It is a subtle gesture, but Neo already knows her well enough to realize that he has displeased her. He sighs and turns to face her, mouths "I'm sorry." She just shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

"Your lesson to learn. Everyone's got to be able to live with their past, face their demons." She gets up and leaves abruptly, without so much as a further glance. Morpheus follows, but stops in the Core, dialing something into the Matrix feed monitors.

Neo stares after her, baffled, and jumps at the sensation of a hand on his shoulder. He turns to find Link staring at him, dark eyes filled with sympathy. Neo feels his face grow hot.

"Don't take it personally," says Link. "She gets defensive when she's upset. Gut reaction."

Neo nods.

"I know. It's just…why this? I've never seen her so upset over not getting her way. She doesn't strike me as that kind of person."

Link's face darkens a little, and Neo knows he has hit on something more significant than simple arrogance here.

"It's not like that," says Link softly. "Trinity…has demons of her own."

"Having to do with freeing a Potential too soon?"

Link nods silently.

"The first time Morpheus put her in charge of a mission, she jumped at the chance to impress him. Watched the monitors day and night. Found this guy, was actually half convinced she'd found the One, or at least that was the way Tank told it."

Neo stares down into his bowl, feeling suddenly nauseous. He motions for Link to continue.

"She pushed to get him out, and Morpheus agreed with her, got…caught up in his own enthusiasm. They pulled the guy out…he couldn't take it. Went insane and killed himself within a few weeks."

"Jesus," whispers Neo for what feels like the hundredth time in the past few weeks. There simply are no words to describe the horrors he has seen.

Link nods soberly.

"Get over here now!"

It is Morpheus' voice, filled with tension. Neo and Link bolt from their seats and make a run for the Core.

"What is it?" asks Neo, falling into one of the chairs and leaning over his captain's shoulder.

"Agents," says Link, sitting hard in his own chair and pulling on his headset. "They're onto Popper. We've got to get him out."

Morpheus punches into the comlink and leans forward over the console.

"Trinity, I need you in the cockpit. Now." He gets up and runs in the direction of the ladder. "Neo, I need you to go in on this one. I'm sorry it's such short notice, but we're likely to lose this one if we don't move now."

"Wait!" calls Neo as his captain disappears up the ladder. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Jack in," says Link. "It all starts with the jack in."

Neo nods slowly and lies down, grimacing at the cold feeling of the data spike in the back of his head. The next thing he knows, he is inside, tall buildings of the Matrix looming all around. And his cell phone is ringing.

"Yeah?"

"Neo, listen to me very carefully. We don't have much time." Trinity's voice, hard and patronizing. Full of tension.

"No shit."

"Stop it, Neo. Just get the damn job done."

"Okay, okay, what do you want me to do?"

"Call the Kid's cell phone. Give him the usual, direct him out. Tank's going to upload his number to your phone."

"Whoa, whoa, where is he?"

"Lincoln Highschool, it's about two blocks to your east. Get there quickly, you may need to pull him yourself."

"_ME?" _

"Yes, Coppertop. You. Now get moving."

The phone clicks dead. Neo takes a moment to get his bearings, then jumps in an empty cab and orders the driver in the direction of the school. They arrive just in time to see several agents go sprinting up the steps and in the front door. Neo grabs the phone and dials.

"They know you know," he whispers into it. "They're coming for you. Get out. Get out now."

* * *

"This is crazy," says Trinity, not caring that she is talking to her captain in a most disrespectful tone. Moments like this call for attitude.

"I know, Trinity, I know. We may be in over our heads here. But we don't have a choice."

"You're going to kill him!" Her voice sounds practically hysterical in her own ears, and she flinches at the sound.

"_They're _going to kill him if they catch him. Either that or use him to find and kill us."

She grips the edges of the copilot's chair and forces herself to breathe evenly. Now is not the time for hysterics. She is not used to losing her grip on her own emotions.

"All right, so what do you plan to do?"

"Just fly," says Morpheus. "Under the powerplant."

"Are you sure? He's not ready."

"Found him," calls Link on the comlink. "He's almost out."

"Without the Red Pill?" calls Trinity. "How can you have a signal on him? That's not possible!"

"I don't know. But I have one."

Trinity sighs and maneuvers the ship up to the very top of the tunnel, placing a hand on the heavy leaver that operates the ship's claw-arm.

"Link, I need you to guide me here. He can't be ready. He just can't."

"Do it, Trinity," orders Morpheus. "He's awake. I know it."

"He can't be! No one woke him up. You're going to _kill him_, Morpheus."

"DO IT!"

She closes her eyes and pulls.

* * *

Review please! 


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